


The Way He Feared

by alwaysdarkestbeforefandoms



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 10:36:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaysdarkestbeforefandoms/pseuds/alwaysdarkestbeforefandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean knew that he loved Castiel the moment he found the angel in Purgatory. It was Cas that made the first move, but the hunter knew in his heart it couldn't last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way He Feared

**Author's Note:**

> Slash, Male/Male, ends in a pool of blood and despair. Just a heads up.

Dean remembered the first time Cas had kissed him. It was in Purgatory, after finding the angel kneeling at the riverside. Cas had waited patiently until Benny was out of sight before staring at the hunter with that intense gaze of his, and they had both known what they had wanted to do for so very long.

It was Cas that made the first move, which would end up being the regular between them. He'd taken Dean's face in his hands and crushed their lips together, the way he'd kissed Meg some time before. It had been sloppy, inconsistent, full of teeth and tongue, but it had been perfect anyway. Somehow, Dean had loved the feel of Cas's new beard against his skin, he'd loved his angels callous fingers and desperate lips. It had been perfect.

It didn't take Dean long to realize that Cas was a little more experienced then he let on. Whenever it was Benny's turn to take watch and the two were alone in the shelter, Cas would crawl over to Dean's makeshift bed and kiss him again, moving his hands tenderly around the hunter's waist and stomach. He always touched Dean like it would be the last time, like the hunter was his only lifeline and he couldn't get enough. With this attitude, after a few weeks together, Dean thought for sure Cas would be the dominate one in the end.

The outcome was surprising. With Benny out hunting for the morning (though, if Dean was honest with himself, Benny knew about their arrangements and decided to give them some space), Cas crawled over like he would always do and locked their lips. It was tender and sweet, a stark contrast to how rough the angel could really be, and it was Dean that grabbed the other man's hips and flipped their bodies. In that moment, their roles were solidified and, as Dean nipped at Cas's neck and the angel ran his finger's through the hunter's hair, neither complained.

Dean remembered when Cas let go of his hand. He remembered the angel telling him to go, telling him to leave. The lifeline had been cut and everything started making sense. Walking through the forest that night, Dean realized that he'd always known Cas wouldn't be coming back with him. But this didn't make it any less heartbreaking.

But Dean Winchester didn't get heartbroken. He refused to acknowledge the pain in his chest as he freed Benny into the world, when he found Sam, when they fought, when they hugged, when everything was almost normal. He refused to feel his breath hitch when Sam asked where the angel was, what it was like in Purgatory, how he got out. He refused to remember feeling Castiel's skin underneath his own as the angel clawed his back.

He hated himself for praying to the angel after he was top side. He hated that, every night, he would wait until Sam was snoring slightly before sitting up and whispering a quick prayer to the angel. At first it was angry, accusatory, but then it turned guilty, regretful, and hopeless.

What were you thinking!? We were out, we were standing in the doorway, why the hell did you let go? I had you, I had you, I had you.

Please come back, Cas. Please, I need you. I need you here with me, please come back, I can't do this alone.

Soon he blocked the memories entirely, from that first kiss to the angel slipping through his fingers. Sam stopped asking questions and the cases got heavier. Dean pushed the thoughts so far back that he truly believed the lies he had created. But that didn't stop him from praying. Nor did it stop the dreams when he closed his eyes, the way Cas would gasp his name and throw his head back as...

He would always wake up and push it all back before Sammy woke up. It was a ritual.

When the angel returned, Dean felt the stabbing in his heart all over again. He felt the guilt and the pain all over again, the regret of leaving Cas and the self-hatred. Every emotion came seeping back and he hated it.

But Cas was off. Something about him was different, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. The angel seemed mechanical, robotic. Sam thought it was Purgatory. Dean thought something was wrong. Neither mentioned it.

Cas reminded Dean of everything the night before Sammy left them alone in the hotel room. Still processing the way Cas would stay behind, the way the angel was afraid of suicide, Dean felt nothing but emptiness.

Almost immediately after Sam took the Impala, Castiel walked swiftly over to where Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed and kissed the hunter, straddling his hips. Every memory hit Dean like a bag of bricks and he recoiled back.

Cas cocked his head, leaning away. “Is this not pleasurable for you, Dean?” The Winchester almost laughed, the bulge in his pants discouraging the question, but his mind was still trying to wrap around the idea… this idea… of them.

He shook his head. “No, no Cas this is...” He trailed off slightly, twirling the edge of Jimmy Novak's tie. “I just had forgotten, that's all.” He looked up to find a quick flash of sadness in Castiel's eyes before his gaze returned to expressionless. “But,” Dean looked at the angel and flashed a small grin. “I think I want to remember now.”

Before Cas could open his mouth to reply, Dean had already latched his teeth to the angel's neck. He let out a soft moan, any retort to Dean's earlier behavior forgotten.

Grabbing Castiel's hips, Dean flipped the angel onto the bed, crushing their lips together as he let his hands roam the all too familiar crevices of Jimmy Novak's body. Cas let out these sounds that brought everything back, each little hitch and squeal reminding Dean of the crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs underneath their bodies.

Above all, he remembered what Castiel liked. He remembered to always return to nibble on the angel's neck while striping the withering man bare.

“You are so beautiful.” Dean whispered as he lifted his own shirt from his body. “You are so so beautiful.” All Castiel could do was nod, his breath coming out in short gasps as Dean's fingers trailed down his stomach. “I remember now, I remember exactly what you like.” The hunter was smiling now, happiness rising in his heart, a feeling that had seemed to escape him since his rise from Purgatory. He hadn't been able to put his finger on why until now.

Seeing Cas like this, looking into Dean's eyes with panting breaths and tousled hair, the hunter remembered what he liked. He liked watching this all powerful being, this warrior of God, become undone by his touch. He liked the sounds his angel would make, he liked how right it all felt, he liked-

“Dean.” Castiel panted out, the name coming out as a whine. Dean looked down to see the need written on the angel's face, the way his fingers were clawing at the hunter's arms. “De-” his voice trailed into a gasp as Dean's hands trailed down to his erection, squeezing the angel's cock once before teasing his hole.

“I've missed you too much to make this quick.” Dean whispered, leaning to whisper in his lover's ear. Cas shuddered as Dean inserted a single finger, poking all the right places.

“Mo-more.” The angel stuttered, throwing his head back. Dean complied, scissoring his lover open. This was the best part, watching Castiel grab the sheets and arch his back as Dean added the third finger. The angel started bucking back on the digits, desperate.

“You are so beautiful.” Dean mumbled again, nibbling on Castiel’s fingers. “You are so beautiful, getting yourself off on my fingers. Show me how much you want me, angel, show me what I’ve been missing.”

The sounds coming from Castiel’s lips was mind blowing. “Dean, please, please, please, please…” The prayer was when the hunter knew he couldn’t hold back anymore; he needed the angel now.

Retracting his fingers, Dean positioned himself at Castiel’s ingress, entering slowly. Castiel let out a low moan, trailing his fingernails on the hunter’s back.  
Dean leaned to Cas’s ear as he started thrusting slowly. “Now that we’re alone, show me how loud you can be.”

And Castiel did, thrusting his hips in before throwing his head back and chanting variations of “Don’t stop, don’t stop” and “Dean, Dean, Dean”. It drove the hunter wild, and after a few minutes, leaned in to Cas’s ear while grabbing the angel’s cock.

“Come for me.” Dean whispered. And he did.

Dean remembered waking up the next morning to find the bed empty. He wouldn’t acknowledge the pain in his chest returning when he rolled over to find his angel, who had taken a seat on the sofa before Sam got back, gone. Instead he got up, hopping in the shower to try and wash away any evidence of Castiel’s fingertips on his shoulders or the fleeting kisses on his cheeks.

Even after he’d dried himself off, the hunter still felt used. He tried not to think too much, muttering no chick flick moments under his breath whenever the pain grew too large to bear. If Sam noticed anything different, he didn’t say anything. 

Dean remembered the last weekend Cas visited him, a couple weeks after the first incident topside. Sam was out with Kevin trying to find the next trial, trying to save the planet, and Dean just couldn’t take it all anymore. He’d opted to stay back and that’s where Cas found him; in a crappy motel lying on the bed, twirling is knife in the air. If he hadn’t been so wrapped up in his own mind, he would have heard the soft wings before looking up to see the angel standing before him. Before Dean could sit up, however, Castiel hopped on the bed and locked their lips.

Dean pushed him away, his hands grabbing the angel’s shoulders. Cas was on his knees now, sitting up slightly and cocking his head. “What’s the matter, Dean?”

The pain was pushed away in that moment, replaced by hot anger and betrayal. “What’s the matter? You disappear for a week, you have sex with me then leave out of nowhere, and now here you are just trying to…” The angel crashed their lips together once more, trailing his fingers up Dean’s sides before starting to unbutton the scratchy flannel.

“Please…” Cas whispered, leaning away slightly to finish the buttons. “Please, please, please…” And Dean complied, helping the angel shrug off his trench coat before pulling him down.

“What’s wrong, Cas?” The hunter whispered, hands roaming and kisses lingering. “What’s wrong? Let me help you, Cas, let me help you.”  
The angel shook his head and, for a moment, Dean thought he saw tears in his blue eyes. Castiel leaned closer, his mouth next to the hunter’s ear, as his hands worked on his belt.

“Just fuck me.” He whispered. And Dean did. He thrust hard enough into Cas to make him scream, grabbing his hips with enough force for small bruises to form. He wanted the angel to remember him, wanted the angel to feel everything that Dean had been pushing away.

When it was all over, Castiel left and Dean got in the shower to pretend there weren’t tears in his eyes.

Dean remembered the last time he saw his (the, he’d mumble to himself, the) angel. The last trial had begun and he was forced to step back as Sam took the force. He had been in the middle of mind numbing terror that something would happen to his baby brother, he was… he barely remembered anymore, the ending being so much worse.

When Cas appeared, Dean felt a surge of hope. He thought maybe, maybe he angel could fix it and everything would be okay. He thought… but then he looked into Castiel’s eyes and knew that wouldn’t be the case. His blue eyes were tinted red, his angel sword in his hand as he walked swiftly toward Sam.

Dean never knew why Cas did what he did, nor did he have time to react before the blade went swiftly through his brother’s stomach. He heard someone screaming, but the only mouth open was his own, and he ran, he ran to his brother but it was too late, Sammy had collapsed as Cas stepped away, face cold.  
Somewhere, Dean heard himself chanting Sam’s name over and over, kneeling by his side as flashes of the yellow-eyed demon, of the pit, of Sammy’s limp body rolled around in his brain, as he tried to think about how he could fix this, how he could save his brother one last time.

Sam looked up at Castiel in awe as his jaw went slack and his shoulders slumped forward. There were tears streaming down Dean’s face but he didn’t care, nothing else matter but Sammy and how limp his body was and oh god oh god oh god…

“Dean… I…” Cas was behind the broken hunter, the lost hunter, the hunter that finally lost everything. The angel reached out but it was too late. Twirling around, Dean snatched the knife from Cas’s hand, standing.

“You killed my brother.” His voice was hoarse, broken, the tears still flowing.

“Dean…”

“You killed my brother!!” Dean hollered, cutting the angel off. He started walking towards Castiel, knife raised. “You killed him, you were family, why would you, how could you?”

“I had to.” Castiel’s voice was shaking now, backing up. “Dean, please, Naomi…”

“Bullshit! You’ve never had to do anything you didn’t want to Cas, never!” The anger was boiling and all Dean could remember was the way it felt to kiss the angel underneath hotel room sheets, the way he would buck under the hunter’s touch and scream his name when they were finally alone. All he could remember was how much he loved Castiel, but all he could see was Sammy’s blood on the dagger. “You were told to kill me, remember? You didn’t do it then!”

“I love you!!” Cas cried, backing up to the wall. He looked scared, for the first time since Purgatory, Castiel looked honestly terrified. If Dean looked close enough, he would see regret and guilt and pain, but he refused to look past the anger in his own eyes. “I love you, there was no way I could… when you said you needed me, I… I thought maybe…”

Dean had the angel cornered now, but he knew, if Castiel really wanted to, he could poof out any moment. But he didn’t. Instead, he stayed pressed against the wall with wide eyes and a babbling mouth.

“You’ve ruined it now, you’ve ruined it…” Dean knew he needed to act fast, before the angel reminded him what it felt like to love him. He looked back and saw his brother, saw Sam, hair matted with his own blood, his eyes staring into nothing. The anger returned. “You thought I loved you? You thought we could be happy together?” The hunter sneered, turning to the angel.

“Dean.” Castiel raised his hand. “Please, please listen to me.”

“You were wrong.” He stabbed Castiel in the chest quickly, making sure he wouldn’t back out, making sure he would do what he knew he had to. The look on the angel’s face was disbelief mixed with despair, but Dean tried not to think about it.

The light was blinding, but soon all that was left was an empty vessel and beautiful, charcoal wings. He burned the bodies, like the good little soldier he was, before going on his way.

He didn’t like thinking of that memory so, on the night he decided to take the pills and pick up the gun, he focused on the happiest. Dean focused on the way the angel would roll his hips that made his senses go crazy, the little marks the hunter would make on Castiel’s neck. He focused on the trench coat, the tie, the hair, the stubble, the blue eyes that haunted every one of his dreams.

Dean remembered how the reaper told him about heroic deaths. He knew this wasn’t one of them.

The gunshot rang, through the empty building, heard by none. His body was found days later, his car towed before finding it’s way to a junkyard. His guns were confiscated by police, his clothes donated to charity, his father’s journal thrown in the trash.

Dean Winchester had died the way he always feared he would. Alone.


End file.
